


Saccharine

by marginaliana



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, M/M, Mild Angst, the schmoopiest schmoop that ever schmooped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: Eggsy hates Christmas. Harry hates Christmas. Something has to be done.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elletromil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/gifts).



**One**

"So what are you getting Harry for Christmas?" Roxy said, lounging back against the side of Eggsy's sofa and putting her feet into his lap. She was so occupied with getting comfortable that she almost didn't notice when he didn't answer, but eventually it dawned on her and she looked up. Eggsy had his gaze locked on something outside the window, though she couldn't tell quite what. "Mmm?" she said, poking him one too gently with her toe. 

"Probably just some scotch or somethin'," Eggsy said. "I dunno." He shrugged.

"But it's Christmas!"

"Yeah, Rox, I know, I know. I'll get him _something_."

" _Anyone_ could get him scotch, though. I thought you'd want to—" Something in the way he was holding himself made her cut off the rest of the sentence. Eggsy's feelings for Harry were a complicated subject – sometimes she could get away with twitting him about it, but not always. 

"Not at Christmas," Eggsy said, and there was a finality in his voice that made her decide to drop it, at least for now.

\-----

"So, what are you getting Eggsy for Christmas?" Merlin said, after Harry had finished reporting on his most recent mission. Merlin was still typing, but eventually he noticed that Harry hadn't replied, and he swiveled around in his chair to see what he was doing.

Harry wasn't doing anything in particular apart from studying his hands, which was distinctly out of character. Harry considered inattention in conversation to be the height of rudeness – to engage in it himself told Merlin that something significant was on his mind. 

"I suppose I'll pick up a few films he might like," Harry said at last. "His education there is woefully lacking."

"That's rather impersonal," Merlin pointed out. "I was under the impression that wasn't really the message you wanted to send."

"Perhaps not, but this isn't the time," Harry said.

"Christmas isn't the time for personal gifts?" Merlin said, baffled. 

"Not in this case," Harry said. "Look, Merlin. Just leave it alone, please, won't you?" He pushed himself to his feet suddenly. "I'll let you know if anything comes of that lead in Russia, all right?" Then he was gone, letting the door flap shut behind him before Merlin could even think of a reply.

 

**Two**

"What do you think everyone's going to think when he opens that bottle of scotch at the holiday party?" Roxy said. They were making their way out of the gym after a long workout, the kind that had left her satisfyingly tired and sore. 

"Fuck's sake, Rox," said Eggsy. "Who cares what everyone else is gonna think? Am I s'posed to give a fuck about that?"

"Well. No, not really. But you _are_ supposed to give a fuck about what Harry's going to think."

Eggsy shrugged. "He likes scotch," he said, which wasn't really an answer. "Besides, I might not even bother with the party."

Roxy discovered that her mouth was gaping open and she shut it with a click, then opened it again to say, "Not go to the party? Eggsy, it's the Kingsman event of the year!" The unofficial name for it was the 'Hoorah We're Still Alive Party,' but this year it didn't seem particularly politic to refer to it that way, considering how many they'd lost on V-Day.

"So I've heard," Eggsy said. "But I don't much go for Christmas, so I might skip it. Ain't like I can't afford my own dinner and booze this year."

Roxy winced. "It's not just about the food, though. You know that, right? Everyone will be there – it's a chance to catch up, lean more about what the other knights have been doing. There'll be dancing. Ridiculous party games." It was pretty obvious that none of this was working as motivation, but she felt like she had to try.

"Yeah," Eggsy said flatly. "Thrilling." They'd reached the doors to the locker rooms now and he pulled his open, swiping his other hand across his sweaty forehead. "Look, I dunno. I ain't gonna decide now anyway. Thanks for the workout, though, yeah?" He offered his fist, and Roxy bumped her own against it with a sigh.

\-----

"I'm terribly bored," Harry announced, swanning into Merlin's office without knocking.

"And you're a terrible boor," Merlin said. "Eggsy's manners are rubbing off on you, I see."

"Hilarious," Harry said, but he gestured to the chair in a request to sit and Merlin waved him in. "Tell me you have a mission for me," Harry continued.

Merlin blinked. "I don't, particularly. Bors is on his way back from the Sudan, Gawain has almost wrapped up his project with the Americans. Unless we get more information about that lead in Russia, it's not likely there will be anything that needs urgent attention. You could run a few sessions with the handler trainees, if you were interested."

"I suppose," said Harry, but it was unenthusiastic.

"Why do you ask?"

"I just want to get away for a while," Harry said. "That's all."

"You've just been away," Merlin pointed out.

"Yes, but it was Russia," said Harry. "It was cold. There were people shooting at me."

"You like it when people shoot at you."

Harry tilted his head in reluctant acknowledgment.

"Besides, there will be the party. You won't want to miss that."

"I've been to parties enough this year," Harry said. "I'm beginning to find them as boring as Russia."

Merlin thought this was decidedly improbable, as Harry generally delighted in any opportunity to wear a suit and drink martinis and regale people with stories of his sexual exploits, but he supposed it was technically possible. Perhaps it was just that Harry felt awkward about the scar that cut across the side of his face, the ever-present reminder of how close he'd come to death at Valentine's hands, the reminder of Chester's betrayal. 

But they all had scars, even if they weren't as obvious as Harry's. 

 

**Three**

Roxy waited until she was alone in the locker room before she reached up and tapped her left earring. "Merlin?"

"Aye, lass, I heard it." His voice was warm in her ear. "Harry's much the same." 

"We have to do _something_."

"I think... We'll need to get to the heart of what's bothering them first."

She hadn't doubted his understanding, but it was reassuring to know that he agreed with her conclusions as well.

"So I'll get Eggsy shitfaced," Roxy said. "And you'll get Harry... whatever passes for shitfaced with him."

Merlin snorted. "It just takes considerably more alcohol, that's all. But yes, let's start there. Then we can decide what's to be done." 

 

**Four**

_There_. Merlin could see it, almost like a tangible change in the air – the moment when Harry slid from pleasantly tipsy into melancholy drunk. It didn't happen often, but he'd learned to recognize it. 

"The preparations for the party are coming along well," he said casually, as if carrying on a conversation.

"Mmm?" Harry said. He'd tipped his head back against the top edge of the chair and was staring up at the ceiling. "Good, good." It wasn't even remotely enthusiastic. 

"I'm thinking of getting in some strippers just to liven it up a little," Merlin said.

"I'm sure that will be lovely," Harry murmured, but after a moment he tipped his head back down to give Merlin an accusing look. "You aren't, really."

"No, of course not," Merlin said. "But I thought it might disrupt your humbug-ing, if only for a minute or two."

Harry snorted. 

"You used to like Christmas," Merlin said.

"No I didn't," said Harry. "I was just better at faking it."

Merlin hadn't the faintest idea what to say to that. He'd never guessed that Harry was unhappy during the holiday season – yes, he'd often volunteered to take missions then, just as he had only a few days ago. But Merlin had thought it was just some combination of boredom and charity, leaving the agents with families free to celebrate with them. Not that Harry would really rather have been in Africa or South America or somewhere that would allow him to avoid the holiday all together. 

"Why?" he said eventually.

Harry sighed and tipped his head back again. He was silent for a long while, and then at last he said, "It was Christmas when I broke the news to them, or near enough. They had a tree up and presents already underneath it. Lights. Baubles. A ceramic fucking Christmas village on the side table. Snow globes." His voice caught on the last word. "Eggsy was holding one of them when I gave him the medal."

_Ah, Christ,_ Merlin thought.

"I don't think he understood, of course," Harry continued. "Not then. But he must have put it all together later on. How could he possibly get through this time of year without thinking about it? Without remembering that I was the one who ruined that Christmas, that I was the one who got his father killed?" He swallowed. "I certainly can't forget it."

"Oh, lad," said Merlin. Harry was no younger than himself, but he sounded very young indeed just then. "It wasn't your fault, you must know that. We _all_ missed it."

"It was my mission," Harry said, with heavy finality. "If I could give Eggsy something he actually wanted, it might be different. But I can't give him his father back." He heaved out a breath. "Enough of this. Tell me how you're getting on with the new tie pin device, will you?"

Merlin could see he'd get no more out of him, not now. But he rather thought he'd got what he needed anyway.

\-----

Getting Eggsy shitfaced was easy – all Roxy had to do was take him to their new favorite pub on Sunday night and buy him as much crap beer as he wanted. Which was a lot. 

He'd spent the first hour rambling about Daisy's new school and how wonderful it was. Unspoken but everpresent was the reminder that Eggsy himself had never had any of the things Daisy now took for granted – a clean and safe play area, new equipment, fresh supplies, books. 

The second hour was Roxy moaning about the demise of her social life – not exactly untrue, but more an excuse for her to switch them into drinking shots of dubious and cheap tequila. 

By the third hour Eggsy was stumbling as he came back from the bar with the latest round, though he was naturally graceful enough not to actually spill anything. He set the glasses down and slid into his seat, and had got as far as opening his mouth to launch into some undoubtedly ridiculous story of a past date when Roxy said, "All right, come on, then. Why d'you hate Christmas so much."

"Ughhhh," Eggsy said. "Do I hafta?"

"Yes." Roxy slid Eggsy's glass out of his reach. "I want to know."

"And what Roxy wants, Roxy gets," Eggsy said, but there was no heat in it. "Look, it's just... After my dad died, we never had enough to spare for a tree and all them baubles and all the sorts of presents it seemed like other kids got. Then Dean started coming around." He didn't look at her, but he never did, when Dean came into the conversation. "The first year he bought me something really flash and I thought maybe things were gonna finally be different. But I think some part of me could tell, even then, that it was 'cause he wanted to look good for mum. And once he'd moved in he didn't bother with pretending he gave a fuck about me."

"Oh, Eggsy," Roxy said, helpless.

"He still bought mum stuff, though – fancy jewelry, clothes. Or maybe he stole it, I dunno. I guess I can't stop thinking about all that when it's Christmas. Like if you got to buy people shit to make them want to be near you, then what good are you?"

"I— You bought that new place for your mum, though."

"And you don't think that feels like buying her love? I'm never _home_ , Rox, and she doesn't know where I am or what I'm doing most of the time. I lie to her every time we talk – she knows that much, at least. And I'm going to have to lie to Daisy, too." He swallowed. "I can live with it 'cause I know I'm giving them both a better life. But trying to buy Harry wouldn't get him anything he don't already have."

 

**Five**

"And then he threw up into the gutter twice," Roxy concluded.

Merlin grimaced and sat back in his chair. "I'll add 'generosity in the face of extreme provocation' to your performance review for this year," he said.

Roxy snorted. "We have to _do_ something," she said. "This is getting ridiculous." She was beautiful like this, eyes flashing with purpose. 

Merlin cleared his throat. "What would you propose?" He steepled his fingers together, trying not to notice whether her gaze followed the movement.

"There's always the tried and true method of locking them in a closet with enough mistletoe to choke a horse," she said.

"They both know how to pick locks," Merlin pointed out, mainly just to see her blush.

"What's _your_ plan, then?" she said sharply.

Merlin lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I don't know," he said, but as the words were coming out, an idea came to him. "Well."

"You've thought of something." There was an unmistakeable fondness in her voice. 

"It's ridiculous," Merlin said.

" _They're_ ridiculous." 

"It will be dreadfully saccharine."

"All the better," Roxy said firmly. "Come on, out with it." 

"All right," Merlin said. "What we do is..."

 

**Six**

The holiday party was in full swing when Roxy arrived – she wasn't quite dragging Eggsy by the arm, but it was a close thing. 

The Kingsman gymnasium converted for the occasion was thick with scents, citrus and spices, pine and vanilla. There was garland and tinsel hung in swags down the length of the room, draped over every table. One table had an impressively large selection of alcohol and mixers: the next was laden with food, appetizers and pasta and a roast, a selection of chocolates and delicate-looking pastries. No servers – everyone was expected to serve themselves tonight, a recognition that the staff deserved the celebration every bit as much.

Merlin appeared to have had an easier time of it with Harry, because Roxy could see them across the room, drinks already in hand. She had to swallow hard at the sight of Merlin. He was wearing a tux rather than his usual khakis and jumper – a rare sight – and it was cut trim in a way that emphasized the length of his legs, his strength, the way he was honed sharp as a knife. The crisp white of the shirt contrasted sharply with the warm color of his skin and there was just enough of his throat visible above his collar to make her wonder what he'd look like lounging backwards on a bed, the ends of the bow tie hanging loose. 

She realized then that she wanted him – and also, with a breathtaking suddenness, that she _had been_ wanting him, for weeks if not months, refusing to let herself know it because she hadn't wanted to ruin their professional relationship. But it was unmistakable now.

_Fuck._

After that, it didn't seem like so much of a sacrifice to stick with Eggsy and avoid Harry and Merlin altogether. There were plenty of people to talk to – the other Kingsmen, most of whom she'd at least met or worked with but didn't know much about personally; the tech crew; the handlers who she knew by voice but not by face; the archivists and research team; all the miscellaneous staff who were necessary to running a gigantic secret spy organization. 

Eventually, though, the drink and the food and the conversation had its effect on Eggsy and he unbent enough to enjoy himself. Roxy snuck a look across the room and saw that Harry was laughing at something – he seemed pretty relaxed as well. When she turned her gaze to Merlin he was already looking at her.

It was time. 

Roxy reached into her purse and pulled out what she needed, holding it unobtrusively in one hand while she used the other to guide Eggsy subtly towards the middle of the room. He didn't seem to notice, perhaps because he was on his third glass of champagne. Merlin was doing the same from the other side, distracting Harry with a question so that he wouldn't see where they were headed.

The pairs met at last, and Roxy could feel Eggsy go stiff as he caught sight of Harry. The two of them stared at each other. 

Harry was the first to find his voice. "Merry Christmas, Eggsy," he said, but it was distant and strained.

"Merry Christmas," Eggsy managed.

"Oh," Merlin said, as if he were just remembering it. "That's right. Harry, I have your present for Eggsy here." He slipped it out of his inside jacket pocket and stuck it in Harry's hand, maneuvering the whole thing so that it looked as if Harry had chosen to take it and hold it out.

"And Eggsy has his as well," said Roxy, doing the same. Harry's eyes narrowed, but he took the card. Eggsy took his, shoulders rigid.

Roxy knew what it said, but she still peered over Eggsy's shoulder to see it – a simple card on cream paper, with a little embossed image of a spray of holly in the top right corner. And in the middle, in calligraphed lettering: "Eggsy. All I have to give you for Christmas is my heart, and all I want is yours."

Merlin had been right about it being saccharine. And yet it appeared that saccharine was just what was needed. Eggsy sucked in a breath. "D'you mean it?" he said, wide-eyed. He lifted the card and Roxy could see Harry's eyes pass over the words, could see the moment when he realized they were the same as those on his own.

"My dear boy," he said. "Of course I do."

Eggsy threw his arms up around Harry's neck – the card went flying – and then they were kissing. Harry's hands went to Eggsy's waist, holding him close. It could have been showy, dramatic. But it was clear that the only thing each saw was the other.

Roxy half wanted to turn away, just to give them some privacy, but it was a futile desire in the middle of a room full of people – especially in a room full of people who had watched Harry and Eggsy stupidly pining over each other for nigh on a year. She took a step back, and discovered Merlin beside her, warm and solid. She offered him a wry smile.

"If that idiot can be brave, then so can I," Merlin said under his breath, and Roxy had no more than a moment to wonder what he meant by it before his hand was reaching for hers, raising it to his lips. 

The kiss to her fingers was delicate, questioning – but his eyes showed all the passion and desire she could have asked for. She curled her fingers around his and drew him close, lifting her head to meet his mouth with her own.

 

**Seven**

Later, when they'd all stopped kissing and all the hooting and whistling from the assembled Kingsmen and staff had died down, Roxy found some mistletoe and threw it at Eggsy's head, just for good measure.


End file.
